Today is the anniversary of my first date with Sparky. You can read about it here if you want. Needless to say, in the last two years since that post was written, we have almost broken up several hundred more times, a couple of times very seriously. But again, somehow, somewhere we scrounge up the courage and strength to face the problem and slay the beast. We adjust our hopes and our dreams and move forward, together.
Man, it is really, really hard at times. At our one year wedding anniversary, we were in San Francisco. I was sitting with my step-dad and said something to the effect of “Phew. The first year is over. I hear the first year is the hardest.”
My step-dad laughed. Out loud. It takes a lot to to get him to laugh audibly. He just looked at me and said, “Jen, EVERY year is the hardest.”
And he wasn’t lying.
Last year, sitting with my step-dad, he congratulated me. Apparently Sparky and I stayed married for longer than any of the bets made on our wedding day. No one expected us to make it past a year, let alone four. We’re almost to five. (By the way, I still think Sparky and I should have collected on all those bets, Dad, Jeff, Mim, Aunties.)
I keep waiting for one of those Camelot years that flow beautifully and easily; where it’s not such hard work and growth opportunities are as pleasurable as the scent of a rose. I suppose they don’t really exist except in hindsight. So I’ll keep moving forward and wait for it.
As today is also the 12 week mark of this pregnancy, I’m confident those days are on their way.
Just let me believe that.